


To Be Jolly

by Satchel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5502890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satchel/pseuds/Satchel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment in time with Clarke, Lexa and their newborn one cold Christmas night (total fluff).</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Jolly

It was almost a quarter past one in the morning before Clarke managed to leave the emergency department at Ark Hospital. It had been a long and arduous night. While it was well renowned that the holiday season had a higher rate of accidents and emergency situations, this year had certainly taken the cake in Clarke's book. Several car accidents, severe burns and a case of a man getting his hand stuck in a cookie jar his family had left out for Santa (talk about getting caught red handed, thought Clarke), had kept her back far later than she would have liked. Despite it all however, she wouldn't trade it for anything. While being a doctor was stressful at the best of times and onerous during the worst, it paid off in the lives she had saved working alongside her mother at the Ark. 

Exhausted and feeling the telltale signs of a foot ache, she stumbled up the snow-laden front steps of the small two-storey house and made her way inside. The drop in temperature was a welcome one and yet the silence permitting the house was slightly unnerving as she kicked off her shoes. The lights from the spruce tree and garlands were still on in the living room, their flickering reflections in the bay window greeting Clarke as she dumped her bag and keys on the hallway table and padded across the floorboards in nothing but her socks. 

As she entered the living room, Clarke let out the breath she felt she had been holding all day upon what was perhaps her favourite sight in the world. Sunken deep into leather cushions, Lexa lay fast asleep, her legs strewn over the armrest of their couch. Leaning in the doorway, the blonde could feel the involuntary smile creeping onto her face. Lexa was softer somehow, in the glow of the light from the tree. Her chestnut tresses thrown into a bun, a few errant, curly strands escaping to flow onto her face. Her plump lips shifted every now and then as if to taste the air (one of her many funny, if not slightly adorable, quirks). Even though these past few weeks had run both of them into the ground, she still managed to look the picture of irresistible. But then again, Clarke mused, she was particularly biased in her opinion of Lexa. Her wife would always win her vote in the end. 

While the nights had gotten longer and colder as the approaching winter blanketed snow over Washington, the world had been busy getting ready for Christmas. While it wasn't their first Christmas together as a couple, Lexa’s chaotic upbringing meant that Clarke had still worked harder than ever to include her wife in the many Christmas traditions she had missed out on as a child. Having had almost three years to practice these traditions within the comfort of their relationship however, did not diminish the pleasure Clarke received from teaching Lexa how to bake Christmas cookies, string garland and lights between the windows and how to care for the live tree they had purchased at a tree yard early in December. While Lexa had adopted most of these rituals quite quickly despite her lack of understanding their significance, there were still other aspects of Christmas she had yet to wrap her head around. At her mothers Christmas dinner two years ago Clarke had introduced her wife to eggnog, Clarke’s family having made it since she was a child. The brunette ended up dumping the entire bottle of brandy into the milky drink and the next morning introduced the worst hangover the pair had ever had in their adult lives. Beneath wide sunglasses that entire day, Clarke had promised herself to never let the brunette handle the Christmas drinks again. Beginning new traditions this year however, was perhaps the most important aspect of Christmas. 

The doctor felt her smile grow as her eyes found the tiny yellow bundle laying atop Lexa’s chest. A pair of hand mittens and a beanie rested snugly between Lexa’s breasts as, with every intake of breath, the newborn would move slightly up and down. The brunette’s hands rested protectively across the baby’s back, cradling her safely. 

After a hard, gruelling day at the hospital, this was the remedy she had needed. It was also in moments such as these that Clarke realised how lucky she had become. She shook her head slightly, the now smile-turned-grin refusing to leave her face. She had never been more grateful in her life. Folding her jacket onto the armchair beside the tree, she slipped her phone from her pocket and snapped not one, but several photos of the duo on the couch. She then sent them to the rest of their crew, knowing full well she’d suffer the backlash of Raven and Anya teasing Lexa later on, yet Clarke couldn't bring herself to care much. Setting her phone down, she softly took Lexa’s arms and leant down to kiss her forehead. 

‘Lexa, time to get up. Come to bed.’

Lexa’s eyes blinked open slowly, confused and drowsy with sleep. Her hands tightened around the baby. 

‘Clarke?’ 

'Yeah honey, come on. Let's get to bed.'

Lexa’s eyes, those piercing, smouldering green spheres which could peer into her soul and strip her bare, were tired. Yet not unhappily so. There was a spark, a welling of warmth in there those closest to her would have noted was absent perhaps four years back, before she had met Clarke, before Dany was born. 

‘She finally fell asleep on me’, said Lexa with a small smile, ‘It took a long time, perhaps three hours. But she finally slept.’

Gently Lexa lifted the baby off into Clarke’s waiting arms and the three of them made their way into the bedroom, Lexa pausing to shut off all the lights in the living room. It had become a ritual of sorts between the three of them; mother, mama and daughter. Clarke would change Dany’s diaper on the table against the wall, being gentle as not to rouse the sleeping infant. Lexa would veer into the adjoining bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face, before puttering over to carry the child to bed whilst Clarke did the same. It was perhaps Clarke’s favourite part of the day, stepping out of that bathroom, gazing up from the floorboards to see a peaceful Lexa waiting, the baby curled into her side, for Clarke to fill the void on the other side of the mattress. 

Once they were settled in bed, Lexa would lean over and press her lips softly, ever so gently to Dany’s pink forehead, pale skin against almond a beautiful sight to Clarke. Her heart would stutter as Lexa recited those four words she had uttered almost every single night since the couple had discovered her conception. 

‘I love you, peanut.’ 

Dany sighed in her sleep, little fists resting in their cotton mittens. She had a habit of scratching herself otherwise. Clarke thought that odd, that a child so young could hurt themselves unknowingly or unintentionally even if said child didn't have control over their hand movements much yet. She would have to keep an eye on it. 

‘Stop worrying so much, sky girl.’ 

Lexa was staring at her, a knowing smirk making Clarke blush as she realised she’d been caught.

‘I can’t help it’, she shrugged, unconsciously rubbing a hand over Dany’s stomach. The infant wriggled contentedly, leaning into her touch. 

‘She has your eyes Clarke.’ 

Clarke looked up, Lexa was still staring at her. Those green eyes had begun their soul stripping, and Clarke found herself submitting to it without even a second thought, willing to let her wife dictate the pace of this conversation. 

‘She was opening them a lot more today, looking around at the lights i think’, Lexa finally broke her stare to look down at the bundle between them, ‘She is a curious one.’ 

‘Her eyes could change colour y’know’, said Clarke softly, ‘All babies are born with-‘

‘She will keep yours’, reassured Lexa, ‘I know she will.’ 

And she hoped Dany would. She wanted a piece of herself to be in there somewhere, even though she knew it was technically impossible. The family lay there for what felt like an age, in their quiet bubble of warmth. 

Lexa was the one to break it again, ‘Clarke….what if- what if I’m not-‘

And Clarke could see them, the gears churning and clicking together in Lexa’s head. Her thoughts would sometimes eat at her, from the inside out like a virus. Devouring the peace they had managed to slowly build over the years. But whatever fear or insecurity Lexa dug out of the ground, Clarke was there, with a shovel and another hole to bury it in. It was just how they worked. Lexa loved her for it. 

‘You’re a wonderful mother Lexa’, chided Clarke gently, ‘I mean look at you already.’ 

She motioned to the position they were in, Lexa’s arm protectively slung around a sleeping Dany. 

‘Yes, I know.’

Clarke could tell this wasn't the end of it, not by a long shot, but for now she would let mother nature hopefully help bring some more confidence to Lexa. Clarke would still be waiting there with her shovel if need be. She knew though, as she watched the brunette gaze at the bundle between them, that Lexa adored Dany and the peace the baby had brought with her, the new chance she had been given. 

‘She’s gonna have me wrapped around her little finger’, Clarke grumbled, who didn't know whether to be impressed by this or to dread the coming years of inevitable pouting and losing she would cave into. 

‘She already has you wrapped around her finger Clarke’, smirked Lexa, as she snuggled in for the night. 

At three in the morning when Dany began to struggle and let loose a mighty cry, it was Clarke who, despite the little sleep she had gotten, voluntarily leapt to the kitchen with beady eyes to warm Dany a bottle. From her place in bed Lexa couldn't help but smile, knowing she was absolutely right.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I don't know what made me do this. Perhaps this is some form of regurgitating the sugar I've consumed during the holidays. This was written quickly, a different take off a similar story i wrote long ago, so any mistakes made are my own. Hope you enjoy it.


End file.
